


His, not mine

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Arthur needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His, not mine

“It was because of Arthur.”

 

Douglas nearly choked on his cranberry juice. When he divorced his first wife, he had to work very, very hard to convince his daughter the divorce wasn’t her fault. It took months of trying, lots of crying on her part, but she eventually understood the reason why.

 

Adults were morons, especially when it came to children.

 

“We started noticing something was wrong when he was three,” Carolyn continued, holding her small glass of whisky to her temple. “Arthur wasn’t developing in the same way like other children. He had poor hand and eye coordination, couldn’t pay attention, kept walking into walls… I thought it was because he needed glasses.  But when it was revealed Arthur had a long list of behavior and mental problems, Gordon suddenly began accusing me of adultery. ‘He can’t be my son,’ he used to say.”

 

Douglas had to keep his anger in check. “Then it’s not Arthur’s fault. Don’t you dare say it was.”

 

“Oh, no, no,” Carolyn agreed hastily. “Of course not. But that is the reason Gordon gave. And for a while, I believed him.”

 

Douglas will be the first to say Arthur must have not been an easy child to raise. Yesterday the man got his hand stuck inside a jar, trying to reach for a pence piece. It never occurred to him, until twenty minutes later when Martin showed up, to undo his fist, release the coin, and slip his hand out. But Douglas had never once doubted Carolyn’s love for him, despite all her jibs and soft insults. “So what changed?”

 

“Arthur’s first words,” Carolyn didn’t smile at this, only taking another short swing of her whisky. “When he was five years old.”

 

 _“Five years old?”_ Douglas said, surprised. “Please tell me he was out of his nappies by then.”

 

“Oh, he was. Oddly enough, potty training was very easy with him.”

 

“So what were his first words?”

 

Carolyn looked down at her already finished drink. She tilted the glass from side to side to watch the little liquid that was left dance around the edges. She then giggled softly.

 

 _“Brilliant.”_

Douglas snorted. “Really?”

 

“I had given him a little aeroplane doll for his birthday. He brought it to me when one of the wings began to tear and I sewed it right up. When I gave him back the doll, he just looked at it, said _brilliant,_ and walked off like nothing happened.”

 

“And that’s what changed your opinion?”

 

“There is _nothing wrong_ with Arthur,” Carolyn emphasized so deeply, Douglas wondered if she was even talking directly to him. Maybe she was addressing Gordon in her mind. “What he needed were not doctors or pills or- for God’s sake, the suggestion Gordon gave- a fucking _lobotomy._ What he needed, and will always need, is _time_.”

 

Douglas grinned. “Lots of time.”

 

“ _Hoo, yeah,”_ Carolyn hissed, giggling.


End file.
